howing
himself to the San Blas men when they came to town, but in time this
pleasure palled as all others had, for the woman's kindred seemed
incapable of resentment. Gradually, also, he became accustomed to her
presence, and spent much of his time among the women of Cash Street. On
one occasion he returned from an orgy of this sort to find her talking
to one of his men, a young Barbadian with a giant's frame. It was only
by accident, due to the liquor in him, that his hand went wild and he
missed killing the fellow; then he beat the woman unmercifully.

Chancing to meet the Senor Williams on the street some time later, he
said: "_Buenas dias_, senor! You see, Captain Inocencio is still alive
and the woman has not run away."

His former employer grunted, as if neither phenomenon were worthy of
comment.

"I've heard how you rub it into those San Blas fellows," Williams
remarked. "I can't understand why they never avenged Markeena."

"Bah! They have heard of me," said the Haytian, boastfully; then, with a
grin, "You remember our bet, senor?"

"I never made you a bet," the American denied, hotly. "But I've a mind
to. I've been here ten years, and I think I know those people."

"Two hundred pesos!"

"You'll never have a child by her. They won't allow it. They'll get her
and you, too, in ample time. I tell you, their blood is clean."

"Two hundred pesos that she brings me a San Blas half-breed within two
months," smiled the mulatto, insolently.

And Williams exclaimed: "I'll do it. It's worth two hundred 'silver' to
see a miracle."

"_Bueno!_ I'll bring him to you when he comes."

Thereafter Inocencio gave over beating the woman.

Back at the little settlement beyond the swamp the coming event did not
pass without comment, and although the black women were kind to their
straight-haired neighbor, she never made friends with them, nor did she
ever accompany Inocencio to town. On the contrary, she seemed obsessed
by an ever-present dread, and whenever she heard that her own people
were near she concealed herself and did not appear again until they were
gone. Bred into her deepest conscience was the certainty that her tribe
would make desperate attempt to preserve its most sacred tradition, and
hence, as the days dragged on and her condition became more pronounced
her fears increased likewise. She began to look forward to the birth of
the child as the crisis upon which her own life hinged. Inocencio did
his best t